Masochist
by taruu
Summary: Being a masochist seems very incredulous to one themself. Now all there's left is to confirm it by willingly to receive pain. / oneshot


A/N: I'm only able to post something up this month because spring break is here! I still have a week left, but... sometimes I just wonder if _he's_ a masochist...

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Masochist

_"Definitely not a masochist. Or a masochistic attitude for that matter."_

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Masochist.

He was definitely, no doubt, a masochist.

Why else would he enjoy the feeling of a brick-made purse being caught with his head? Or that feeling that lead to him with a huge concussion and an apathetic syncope? Or maybe the fact that every time he was hit on the head supposedly ten times daily, he landed in the hospital with his head bandaged and a very baffled doctor?

He sighed quietly and rubbed his injured head. "Ow!" he yelped from prodding the bump on his head a little too firmly.

Okay, maybe it didn't exactly hurt him.

_My 'Ow' definitely doesn't represent loud pain..._ he thought. Was he really a masochist who was sexually aroused when hurt? He felt the back of his mind scream at him in incredulous denial. It probably wasn't true, but then again, the pain usually jerked to a good mood. Especially when the same injured spot was hit again, it felt like the bump was pulsing from being turned on, and since the pain was connected with his head, it pulsed throughout his entire body.

_What._

He buried his face into his hands. This wasn't coming true, now was it? But if he was a masochist, it wouldn't really matter anyway, would it? That lady was probably a sadist herself, since she always carried that brick-made purse with her. She probably carried it to only hit him with it because it always appeared in the same room where he was in.

_Oh, god, no._

If _he _was masochistic, and she being the contrary, did that mean they were compatible? As a couple? As in engaged? As in _sexual partners?_

_Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no, _he thought desperately. This wasn't going to come true. He didn't want to be engaged with a sadist. That might sound offensive to the sadist herself, but that wasn't on his mind currently.

But he wasn't completely sure if he was a masochist. He needed to confirm this. And by confirming it, he needed to receive the same pain on the same spot with the same weapon.

He made his way to where he always relaxed at with a cool ice tea drink. Now, he's not going to just _relax _and get that same kind of drink he always got.

He opened the door and greeted the brunette behind the front desk before walking towards the sofas. His brown eyes searched for the lofty lady, where he found her sitting on one of the chairs. She was inspecting her heavily manicured nails.

"Yo." He waved at her, sitting on the sofa across from her.

She looked up, her red stained lips opened in a gap with a huff of a laugh. "Look at you and your bandaged head. I just wonder how you didn't get all those funny stares at you in public." With a smug smile, she stared at him. "Anyway, what do you want, old monk?"

He glared at her at the sudden insult. He didn't expect she would start a war between him and her this quick. He wasn't even prepared. "Who're you calling old when you're an old lady yourself?"

She narrowed her eyes, her right hand clenching her usual purse, the other one nearly ripping off the leather of the chair. "I've told you multiple times already, you stupid man, that I am _not _old."

"Oh, yeah? Then what are those visible wrinkles doing on your face?" he grinned with a flick of his fingers at her. "Especially those white strands of hair, too."

Red crawled from her neck to her face and she growled and stomped towards him. Her hand was firmly and tightly held around the handle of her purse.

_This is it, _he grinned cheekily, closing his eyes and waiting for the brick impact on his bandaged head. _This is the pain I've been adoring. _

With a strong wave opposite of where the lady's arm went, it flew back in front her body as the purse she held caused an audible loud crack from his head.

_I just wonder how I'm not dead yet, _he thought at the last moment when he received the same pain on the same spot with the same weapon.

The pain felt like it was dancing from exhilaration after a short painful moment.

_Yep. Definitely, no doubt, a masochist._


End file.
